Training Day
by Rottridge
Summary: A Jinpei coming-of-age short.


It was a short walk from home, yet miles from adult supervision. Close beside the highway in the heart of the neighborhood, a spot dubbed The Mountain served as proving ground. The shaded brown surface of this curiosity, rampant with pebbles that gathered underfoot, threatened a serious fall or maybe just scrapes and bruises. At the summit beer bottles, cigarette butts, and used condoms combined to assault the youngest psyches with courser aspects of adult life. The child lacking the courage to brave these slopes faced brutal taunts from peers or worse, outcast status.

The damp and musty area behind The Mountain was the goal for most kids. Accessible by climbing over the top and inching down on backsides, this cave packed with years of dead leaves from stunted trees struggling for survival lured the daring. Candy wrappers, more beer cans and drug paraphernalia made up a floor at once dangerous and irresistible. Highway sounds couldn't quite drown out boom boxes in frequent use.

Younger children built forts with sticks and boards found among the rotted leaves. Occasionally, some enterprising child would sneak a hammer and nails from home, increasing the architectural possibilities. Later, teens used the structures as starting points for parties before trashing the handiwork, perhaps in a beer or drug induced haze. The next morning's crop of explorers started the cycle again; youthful symbiotic relationship in an urban biome.

It's tough for some to imagine feeling nostalgic about a place like that, but some of my better moments were spent on that rock. That rock was my training ground long before I knew what a Science Ninja was, certainly before I ever thought I could become one. The most important lessons, those concerning finding my center, weren't learned in the dojo, but there on that rock.

The rest of the team thought I didn't understand what we were about. Jun thought I was still a child. Probably still does. After all that's happened, how can I be?

The day the rock fell victim to Galactor's never ending bid for our planet was also the day I realized just what it meant to me. When the coordinates revealed the location of the first bombings, I sank into my chair on board the Phoenix a moment and just stared. It wasn't until later that I really thought about the way Joe looked at me over his shoulder before turning back to continue his argument with Ken.

Joe knew. It was in those sharpshooter's eyes. We fought a lot, but sometimes when he just looked at me, I knew he knew.

Later that week, latest mechanical threat vaporized, we continued training. I hated training with Joe. He got this little grin on his face, like he thought it was playtime rather than serious training. It made me spend the whole session trying to wipe it off. I got all pissed off and forgot that he had the advantage of size and strength. My kicks and punches started getting wilder and he just laughed. That day was no exception. When he kicked my right foot from under me, the momentum carried my left foot right along with it. My tailbone hit the floor and I felt as if my balls had shot through my penis and were bouncing around the room. I grabbed for my crotch to make sure the boys were still home while Joe just laughed.

He stood back, waiting for me to jump up and come after him with some wild maneuver he would easily block or use to put me on my ass once again. Instead, one hand rubbing at my tailbone, the other still cupped over my crotch, I was shot back to the days when innocence had a bigger place in my heart. For just an instant, I was on the summit of the litter-strewn rock, heading for my favorite spot.

On the side opposite the shaded cave where kids built their forts stood a lesser known, dish-shaped outcropping two feet lower than the main rock face. A few struggling bushes on either side formed handholds for those determined to reach this crow's nest. An opening in the tree line made a view port above a forty-foot drop to the concrete sidewalk below. Surprises greeted those few finding this shelf of rock. High above the noxious odors of car exhaust and the anxious, care-worn expressions of residents already sensing the tension from their leaders and the inevitability of trials to come, the world took on a different caste.

The horizon became readily apparent and far removed. Sunlight ceased giving mere illumination, but offered something more ethereal. The windows of apartment buildings shone like jewels; lawns became greener and less patchy. Even traffic sounds seemed muffled, farther off, taking fears and disappointments with them. The world stood full of possibilities.

Slowly, the memory faded to its customary room at the far rear of my brain. I continued to just sit there before two feet moved over the springy beige floor into my line of vision. Not moving, I watched those feet approach, step by slow step, until they stopped directly in front of me. I concentrated on the faint lines radiating out from under those feet, like ripples in a pond visited by water skimming bugs.

I looked up as Joe knelt. I looked into those eyes and waited, noticing for the first time that the laughter had stopped. We looked at each for what seemed like days. Then, a small smile touched Joe's lips and he stood, reaching to offer me a hand. I grabbed his hand and stood, noticing the strength and resilience of his grip as he helped me to my feet.

For just a moment longer we smiled at each other, then stepped back and assumed our fighting stances. Joe gave a slight nod and we began again, my mind more focused, Joe's ridicule evaporated.

Afterwards, as we prepared to leave, Joe stopped in the doorway and turned sideways to give me one final smile.

Walking past my old haunt I survey the rubble strewn where my rock used to be. Even now I can close my eyes and still feel the way the breeze touched my cheeks and the pebbles shifted under my planted feet. The Galactor attack that leveled that rock is still a vivid part of my memory, but my sparring match with Joe is stronger. I can still watch those feet approach, feel the strength in that hand, see the understanding in the eyes.

Yes. Joe, my aniki, knew.


End file.
